I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Tuesday, March 16, 2021

He chose it

 

March 16, 1970  (I was 25)

 

He chose it

God everyone knows

it is just that very thing

that makes us men

We always bring it on ourselves

(and then we scream

The bastards screwed us)

Doesn’t it seem we must

own up to half of what we are

Of course there is that far chance

he was innocent

and if his truthful ardor is constant

he will accept the nails

Of what use is a living martyr

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